Caged
by Steals Thyme
Summary: I have no control, like this. Dan/Rorschach, post-Roche. First person narrative. Complete.


_Written for the kinkmeme – anon requested a sex scene written in first person narrative. I went with Rorschach's PoV D:_

* * *

I have no control, like this.

Daniel is atop me, dominating, although I take him. Head thrown back, can see curve of neck as he moves; pale crescent with pulse riding below like dark river under thin ice. Fragile, easily broken, vulnerable. Yet power lies with him, can only choke wanton sounds as he decides pace, angle. Do not understand his desire to please this way.

Third time we have done this. First time, mistake. Found self carefully orchestrating accidental contact, realize have been doing so for years. Sickness deeply entrenched. Maintained plausible deniability for so long, deceived even myself. Ironic, did not need to deny. Daniel was willing.

Second time, weakness. Invitation was thinly-veiled, body was tired. Hand on my shoulder, indulgent. A secret comfort. Sullied, now.

This time, evidence of corruption running deep beneath face is irrefutable. Initiated act. Mother's son, succumbing to base carnal urges. Beginning to understand why people would pay for this. Skin creeps and shivers at thought. Feel nauseous. Take deep breath, chest crushed beneath familiar weight of untethered panic. Daniel slows, concern plain on face; hope he does not speak.

Cannot bear to hear him speak.

I need to control this.

Sink fingers into his hips. Flesh there gives easily. Is soft, like the man. Fingertips push, find hard bone beneath. Hear him hiss and make abstracted noise that sounds like encouragement. Stomach roils. Tighten grip. Will leave marks, black and yellow warning colors. Have painted him with violence.

Recall bruised eyes and blood dripping onto crumpled bills, pathetic sniveling through clogged nose as money is counted and counted again. Breath feels trapped, limbs twitch involuntarily.

Daniel stills, finally, mercifully.

"Hey," he says. "You okay?" Inane, ridiculous. Of course not. He breathes coarsely against ear, loud, painful. Good. Tempers compassion found in his words.

"We can stop."

Cannot bear it. Cannot bear to hear him, cannot bear to see him even in safety of half-light. Does not veil the pull and shudder of muscle, obscene flex of thigh and stomach. Does not mask his expression. Unguarded, guileless, Daniel but not Daniel. Daniel sheened with lust, distorted by own vulgar wants.

No.

No, no. No distortion.

Should have been strong, when I was not. Just as tainted as I am. More so – is willing to be violated so intimately, like a—

Stop. Never that. Crush that insidious thought before it hooks in barbed claws, begins devouring from inside out. There is understanding to be found here.

I ask him how it feels. Words tip out artlessly before I can catch them – am further gone than realized, discipline sloughed away like scorched skin, bubbling and melting under hot hands. Raw and pink beneath. Voice catches and splinters; conscious that every muscle in body is clenched. Jaw aches. Was the wrong question; don't want that kind of understanding, do not want to know answer. Can't take it back, words cannot be unsaid. I wait.

Answer is as I feared. He tells me I feel good. Tells me he wants me. Unequivocal confession, no longer existing as half-words in half-light. Cannot bear it, but traitor body wants him in return, pathetic scrabble to reciprocate affection. Blood pounds poison through me, makes me feel lightheaded as I push Daniel over and back. Pin his knees to his chest, drive him into mattress.

This is control.

Bed hits wall, beating primal tattoo that swells panic into crescendo. Daniel is crying out, ambiguous sounds that may be pleasure, may be pain. Realize I cannot distinguish which – perhaps have never been able to. Feel pressure from blunt edge of disgust, splitting open old scabrous wounds that I must worry at, tear wider. Worm through addictive miasma of shame that spills forth with every moan I wrench from him.

I stop.

Won't treat him like they treated her.

Limbs tremble; want to bolt for safety of streets, submerge myself in cleansing fire of justice. Sear away memory and sensation until smoke hangs heavy and dark over churning world, until I can press fingers into sinful flesh as punishment and feel no lingering desire.

Daniel's eyes are wide and not afraid. Foolish. He reaches out to touch my arm; aware I am shaking as though plunged in ice water, but cannot find energy to exert control over self. Touch is no different from one he offers at end of difficult night, in Owlship or kitchen or in blood-soaked alley. Reassuring, solid, given without thought of anything but support. Innocent.

I let him fold me into an embrace. Arms are like cage, claustrophobic. Barely tolerable. Absolving. I have no control like this, and I could not free myself if I tried.


End file.
